The Painfully Mundane Lives of Parisian Superheros
by CharlotteCharade
Summary: College AU. Marinette moves into a new apartment for university to find out she is neighbors with none other than Adrien Agreste. Events will document the painfully mundane college experience whilst maintaining their superhero double lives. A series of loosely connected one-shots that will take place in the same universe.
1. Move In

TThis was the day. The beginning of a new era. Today, Marinette would be moving into her first ever apartment, just a fifteen minute bike ride from campus.

She and Alya quickly became friends at orientation, clicking so much that they agreed to live together for their first year. Remembering her encounter with Lady Wifi the previous year, Marinette knew her soon-to-be roommate was the mastermind behind the Ladyblog. Was it a great idea to live with the person who wanted to unmask Ladybug more than anyone? Maybe not, but she was plenty used to being careful. Besides, who better to room with than someone she could get along with?

Marinette already made a handful of friends at her new university during orientation. By handing out homemade pastries from her family's bakery for free, she quickly made nearly everyone's good side (save for maybe Chloe.) Marinette also met fellow new students Kim, Alix, Nino, Mylène, Sabrina, and of course, Adrien. Sweet, kind, Adrien with golden hair and a smile of pure sunshine. While starting off on the wrong foot, Marinette learned that Adrien really was a genuinely friendly, selfless, generous person and she still had his umbrella to show for it.

But that was beside the point. She would reacquaint with everyone later. For now, moving in was the priority.

Seventh floor, make a left, and go to the end of the hall. The hallway was an indoor complex, the carpets looking at least a decade old with a unique stain for each story they held. Conversations were audible coming from each room, even behind closed doors, filling the building with sounds of laughter and excited screaming. Sabine didn't think twice before greeting every young resident she spotted on the way to finding her daughter's room, introducing herself and Marinette as they passed by with a quick exchange of "hi, this is my daughter Marinette, she's new to the building." This resulted in many quick nods and awkward getaways. She internally begged her mother to stop, holding her beat-red face down along the way, but she knew she meant well. It's not like she'd go out of her way to meet everyone on the floor, anyway.

Marinette eyed each door number, looking for the number that matched the label on her new key. Her parents followed behind her, each carrying a few boxes. Tom cringed upon seeing the hallway trash bin which was overflowing with red plastic cups and an empty vodka bottle.

"This is it," Marinette announced, struggling with the lock for only a short moment before opening the door to her new home. She hadn't noticed until now, but her heart was pounding, her rampant pulse traveling across her whole body. Why was she nervous? It was just an apartment. _Her_ apartment, where she'd be living away from her parents for the first time in her life.

Crossing the threshold with wide eyes, her lips curved into an involuntary smile as she found herself standing in _her_ living room. It was small and shabby but perfect; white blinds were pulled open to reveal her window view of the Parisian streets below. Her parents following her inside and placing her packed belongings on the floor, they all started scouting the area. Her mom began putting the food she packed for her in the fridge.

Marinette found the single bedroom, Alya already inside and completely unpacked. Unsurprisingly, her side of the room was covered in Ladybug posters and merchandise. Would it be weird living in a room surrounded by her own face? Maybe, but thinking of the myriad of magazine clippings of a certain blond that would soon join the posters, Marinette clearly had no room to complain.

"You're here!" Alya announced, rising from her desk chair to envelope Marinette in a tight hug.

"Alya!" Marinette smiled into the hug, pulling away only when Alya released her death grip of love. "When did you move in?"

"I got in last night," Alya said, making her way back to the living room. "I'll go introduce myself to your parents."

Her eyes scanned the room. Rustic was the first word that came to mind. Sun shined in through the window - which would probably be her main getaway route for LB purposes - brightening up the tiny room. Albeit small, Alya gave the room a cozy feel, with a variety of succulents in mason jars on the window seal, an impressive collection of comic books on display on her bookshelf, and self-decorated picture frames adorning her desk.

The floor creaked as Marinette walked to the bare bed, wheeling her suitcase behind her. She was already internally planning how she would decorate her share.

Joining her parents and new roommate in the living room, she was happy to see Alya effortlessly chatting up a storm with her dad. He wasted no time in opening the bakery takeout box and offering both girls macarons.

"Girl, we're gonna get along great if you keep bringing these."Alya said, laughing as she popped another cookie in her mouth.

"Glad to hear it," Marinette responded, taking a macaron herself. "Where's mom?" She directed at her father.

"She stepped outside just a minute ago," Tom answered, glancing to the doorway. "Said she'd be right back."

She probably left something in the car; maybe she forgot a box? Oh, if only that were the case. Within a matter of seconds, the front door was open, Sabine ushering in a couple of young men from the hallway.

"Have you met my daughter, Marinette? She's new to the building," Sabine said, a smile stretched across her innocent face.

"Mom, no!" Marinette hissed through barely parted lips.

Except she _had_ met those young men before, and Marinette didn't know if that made it better or worse. Standing before her was none other than her friends from orientation, Adrien Agreste and Nino Lahiffe. She would thank whatever force responsible that she didn't have time to hang those magazine clippings on her wall before Adrien himself came to her apartment and witnessed the embarrassment first hand.

"Hey, Alya and Marinette! You live here?" The blond asked with a smile as pure as newly bloomed daisies in the spring. Wow, she was smitten.

"Yeah, well kinda. I mean, I, just, now I do, but not moved in yet. I …" Marinette silenced herself with a macaron upon seeing the furious yet subtle shaking of Alya's head. So she paused, took a breath, and managed to finish her sentence. "Hi," she ended with.

"Hi," Adrien answered, confused but a light chuckle laced the cadence of his speech.

"I'm just trying to help you get to know everyone, dear!" Sabine interjected, inviting the two boys further inside. "These nice boys live right across the hall. Now come in, we have goodies from our bakery!"

"Wow, thank you Mme. Dupain-Cheng!" Adrien wasted no time in taking her up on her offer, snagging a chocolate macaron from the box.

"Yeah, thanks!" Nino added, following not far behind as he took a macaron himself.

"Hold on," Alya interrupted. "You both live right across the hall from us?"

Nino nodded, wiping crumbs away from his lips. He leaned a single elbow on the kitchen counter and adjusted his hat. Alya snorted, wondering if this was an attempt at appearing suave. "Yup, so I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other."

"Great," Alya sighed, her voice sounding absolutely convincing, unmatched by the strained smile that stretched across her face. Marinette knew some sort of events unfolded between Alya and Nino during orientation, but she didn't have a chance to pry and get details just yet. "This is great. Right?" She threw the question in Marinette's direction.

Adrien would be living right across the hall? So she could see him whenever she wanted? "Yeah! So great, that we're living together. Well, not _together_ , but so close together! Is what I meant." That is, if she could use actual words. Just stop talking, for now. That was her best bet. Thankfully everyone present was gracious enough to overlook her mess of words. Sabine shot Tom a knowing, yet devious smirk as they moved to the kitchen to continue unpacking whilst making themselves scarce.

Once the macarons were almost gone which Nino and Adrien shamelessly took the blame for, Marinette's parents decided to leave their baby. She hugged and kissed them both, but they refused to leave until they exchanged the expected "be careful", "call everyday", and "no, Tom, she doesn't need us to come back tomorrow. She'll be fine."

Her parents had left. Alya was in the bedroom with Nino and Adrien, giving them a tour of the rest of the apartment. There wasn't much to see, but judging by the traces of conversation Marinette could pick up through the walls, her new neighbors were also rather fond of Ladybug, a conversation that probably sparked from Alya's posters.

Although they were just one door apart, Marinette stood in her empty living room, save for a dingy sofa and splintered coffee table, unable to shake the feeling that, for the first time in her life, she was on her own.

Once she was unpacked and had her way with the decor of this barren apartment, she'd probably feel significantly more at home, she decided. Looking around, she had several stacked boxes that needed to be unpacked.

Knowing they were on the heavy side, Marinette braced herself as she grabbed the top box, only to have the bottom give out upon picking it up. The contents poured out onto the floor. The carpeting absorbed most of the shock of the sewing machine that crashed to the floor (God please let it live,) and she watched in distress as an assortment of spools rolled away from her.

"Great," she mumbled to herself as she knelt to the ground and started gathering the contents from the ground.

"Need a hand?" A voice joined her. Looking up, she saw Adrien had already joined her on the ground.

"Y-yeah, thanks," she replied, placing the contents into an empty, sturdier box.

"What's this?" He asked, holding out the Chat Noir doll she had made back in high school. Where did he get that? Why was that in her boxes? "You a fan of the guy?"

Was that a hint of a smile?

It's not like he had any room to judge. Just minutes before she heard him listening intently to Alya's latest Ladybug theories, and if she wasn't mistaken, volunteering his own input as well.

"I-it's a doll I made in high school. It's not just Chat Noir; I have a whole set of dolls," she said as if it would make the situation better. It didn't. It really didn't. "No, you see, a little girl I used to babysit liked to play with them! I must have accidentally packed it with my sewing stuff. I don't ... it's silly, I know."

He allowed her to take the doll from his hand and toss it into the box, flinching only slightly when it smacked against the edge with how carelessly she chucked it.

"Not at all, I think it's cool that you made sure she had a good time," he said. "Besides, I can't blame you for thinking Chat Noir is pretty cool."

"I n-never said-"

She was silenced by his laughter; fluttering, genuine, and pure.

"I'm just teasing, Mari," he said, his voice riding down the end of his laughter. Mari. Nobody called her that before, but she didn't particularly mind the nickname. He glanced around the room as he exhaled. "That's everything."

"What?"

"That's … that's everything. From the box?" He answered.

"Oh, right!" Get it together, Mari. _Mari._ "Uh, thank you!"

He nodded politely as he stood, brushing off his knees. "Is this going to the room?" he asked, gesturing to the box.

"Yeah," she replied. Without leaving room to protest, Adrien already had the large box in his arms as he carried it to the room. As he left her line of sight to join Alya and Nino in the room once more, Marinette decided to follow suit.

The apartment wasn't much. She was already missing her parents. She only had a small handful of friends. Everything would take some serious getting used to. But she wasn't alone. No matter how long it would take, it would be ok. Besides, if only one thing remained constant, she still had patrolling with her kitty to look forward to. forward to.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** It's a college AU. The Intention was for each chapter to be able to stand alone as its own one-shot, but we'll see what happens. Do I have point in writing this? No. Is that gonna stop me from writing? No (✿ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ). This is my first Miraculous contribution and I hope you can sit back and enjoy! Please be nice in the comments because being nice to people makes for a happy world. Best wishes - until the next update!


	2. Raise a Glass to Freedom

**Author's Note:** Content warning for strong language and alcohol. 

* * *

Class was officially in session. As thrilling as Marinette's general education classes of math and biology had been all week, Friday couldn't come soon enough.

She never thought she'd be the partier type in college, but she wasn't particularly opposed to testing the waters. Alya was stoked to check out the nearby clubs; who was she to deny her roommate the opportunity to party with her new best friend? Oh, and their friends across the hall, of course.

If tonight went well, Marinette decided she would have to start designing more scandalous dresses soon. She hardly had anything Alya-approved for clubbing. Everything she tried on elicited a response of "needs more boob," "doesn't show off your ass enough," or "that skirt will ride up when you're grinding." In the end, Marinette decided on a floral sweetheart-cut tube top with black high-waisted shorts. Normally she would wear an oversized cardigan on top, but now was not the time for modesty. She wore her hair down, falling just past her bare shoulders. Being quite the makeup connoisseur, Marinette was thrilled to have a reason to break out the false lashes, red lipstick, and contour palette.

Alya had all the subtlety of a sore thumb, rocking a tight black cutout top and a lace black skirt that worked together phenomenally to show off her curves.

Exiting their apartment, they found Adrien and Nino standing in wait outside their own door. Marinette had to very consciously check herself that she did not openly drool over the sight of her love in black jeans and v neck, complemented with a fitted grey blazer, Gabriel Agreste's finest, no doubt. His sleeves were rolled up just beneath his elbows and, damn it Marinette, forearms should not be this thrilling. Nino took a more casual approach, sporting a simple jeans and t-shirt look.

"Hey!" Adrien put his phone away as he greeted the ladies.

Marinette's heart thrummed behind her ribcage, the vibrations felt in her neck and audible in her ears just at the sight of him. "Hi," she managed. "Y-you look good. BOTH of you. You both look good! Like so ready to party!"

… Yikes.

Being ever the gentleman, Adrien responded with a crooked smile, nodding in agreement to whatever garbled nonsense she had just sputtered.

Well this had been fun, but that train wreck was all the damage Marinette could take for one night, so she would crawl back into her hole of an apartment for the evening in mourning of what could have been.

Right on cue, Alya grabbed the girl's arm to prevent her escape. "No no," she whispered. "We are going out since we are, indeed, 'ready to party.'"

"Damn," Nino remarked upon setting eyes on Alya, glancing her up and down. "You don't play."

"No, I do not." With a smirk of her lips and toss of her hair, she twirled the key ring of her car keys around her finger as she led them out of the apartment complex, swishing her hips with each step.

First impression: the club was casual, crowded, and cramped. The bass of the music pounded relentlessly as purple spotlights probed around the crowd of people dancing and socializing.

"We're gonna get drinks; want anything?" Nino asked Marinette and Alya.

"Surprise me," Marinette said, or shouted, rather, to be heard over the music. She hoped it came off as cool and not because she had no idea how to order drinks. As a new eighteen year old, she didn't have much opportunity to explore in this aspect of life yet.

Alya declined as she was driving. As soon as Adrien and Nino left for the bar, Alya didn't waste a second before dragging Marinette to the dance floor.

Alya could move. Marinette observed the swishing of her friend's hips to the music, intoxicating every man who looked her way. Using Alya as a reference, Marinette followed her motions and felt the music, successfully following suit. It didn't take her long to get the hang of club dancing. It was actually easy!

She jolted away, startled when she felt a pair of hands grab her waist from behind. Shooting a look of confusion to Alya, her friend merely shrugged as a stranger came up behind her as well. Alya paid no heed and began dancing with her stranger. Marinette didn't want to look taken; she had another dance partner in mind. But if it were a chance to show off her moves that she didn't know she had, then what harm could a little shameless practice grinding do?

* * *

Adrien stood close to the bar as Nino made the order. Glancing around the crowd, he quickly learned the ways of the club. Tiny black dresses, spiked heels, and dancing that left absolutely no room for Jesus. Hands were traveling in places he weren't sure were legal to explore in public. Blushing, he geared his eyes away from the more handsy couples and caught glimpses of Mari and Alya in the midst of the chaos, effortlessly dancing up a scantily choreographed storm.

His comfort zone had been abandoned upon stepping through the club doors, but the thought of prying his way onto the dance floor would be burning his zone down to a charred point of no return. Sighing, he checked his phone, taking a quick scroll through Facebook so as to look busy. The offer to check in at his current location made him cringe. Man, would his father be mad if he knew where he was.

Enter Nino with three tiny glasses in his hand. Why on Earth were they so small?

"Here you go," Nino said, handing one to Adrien.

"Only one?"

"My bad, dude." Nino laughed, patting Adrien's shoulder. "Get another if you want. I gotta give this to Marinette, if I can find her."

"You're not - are you going to dance?" Adrien asked, running his fingers along the cool rim of the glass.

"Only if I'm lucky," he winked, holding up his own glass before downing the contents in one swallow.

So Adrien stood alone with the world's tiniest drink in his right hand, his phone in the other. Lifting the cup to his nose, he coughed at the overwhelming intensity of the smell alone. He had never drunk before, not even a sip of wine under the tight instructions of his father, so he knew next to nothing about alcohol. But he had seen plenty of movies. In the movies, however, the drinks were served in normal sized cups or wine glasses.

Why these were so small, he wasn't sure. Maybe it had to do with price conservation or the club's liability over its visitors. Whatever the case, Adrien mimicked Nino's swift motions and downed the thirty milliliter drink in a single swig.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to control his physical reaction. His throat _burned_ and it truly tasted _awful._ How could people drink full glasses of this stuff?

The burning sensation trailed down his esophagus and into his stomach, his entire body feeling hot. But after a few minutes, the burning turned to warmth, like the cozy embrace of a heated blanket. Maybe a few more wouldn't hurt… they were so small, after all.

So he made his way back to the bar, ordering one after the other with little time between each, and feeling warmer with each drink. He would stop if started feeling drunk (whatever that felt like,) but with the low volume of each portion, he doubted the possibility.

"Dude, get out here, the dance floor is lit." Nino approached Adrien at the bar from behind. He glanced over his friend, noticing several empty shot glasses on the counter in front of him. "Uh, you haven't been taking shots this whole time have you?"

"Yeah," Adrien replied, noting how Nino's amused smile turned into a gaping frown. "I asked for whatever you got me first."

"Bro." He paused as if waiting for the punch line. "How many have you had?"

"I don't know, four?" He swallowed the shot currently in his hand. "Five."

"Bro!" Nino shouted. "You had five shots? You're gonna get fucked up!"

Confused, Adrien nervously chuckled. "No, they're so small! Five is nothing."

"Five shots and you feel nothing," Nino said in disbelief. "You are a god."

"Hardly," Adrien laughed, pulling himself to his feet off the barstool. Taking just one step, he stumbled forward over nothing, arms flailing before he caught his balance.

Their eyes met, Nino giving Adrien a look of warning.

"You all right?" Nino asked, holding his arms out in preparation to catch his friend if needed.

Adrien stood silent for a moment, blinking, trying to mentally and physically regain his composure. "Yeah, I'm good," he finally decided, chuckling slightly to himself. "Do you want to dance? I want to dance," he announced, marching to the dance floor with uncharacteristically broad shoulders and a strut usually reserved for the catwalk.

Nino watched cautiously, unsure of what to expect, but ultimately followed Adrien.

Adrien felt fine, really. His eyes darted around the slightly blurry room, voices indistinct and faces becoming difficult to identify. Catching a glimpse of familiar raven black hair amid the crowd of dancers, he made his way to the girl, hearing only traces of Nino calling after him.

Marinette stopped dancing with her current partner when she saw him, tall, blonde, and eyes burning with a glossy intensity she did not expect.

"Is that your man?" The stranger asked from behind, speaking directly into her ear so she could hear.

"Not really?" She replied. "Well, I - I don't-"

"Hey, I'm not looking for trouble," the man cut in. "Nice meeting you." With a simple nod at Adrien, the stranger was gone and Marinette was partnerless. Not that she particularly cared. She didn't even get the guy's name, nor did he get hers.

She watched in anticipation as Adrien closed the distance between them. Her eyes darted to Alya who had taken more interest in the spectacle before her than her own dance partner. She shot her friend a thumbs up.

Before she could question him, Adrien's hands snaked around Marinette's waist as he pulled her flush against him.

He lowered his head to her ear, speaking slowly and clearly. "Dance with me?"

She was dying. She was dying and ascending to heaven and Adrien must be the angel escorting her there, because there was no way this would happen without some supernatural force.

Her hands instinctively found his chest, toned and warm like the rest of him she could currently feel pressed against her. Suddenly her entire dictionary of the French language was gone and she had no words. As if she had many words to spare around him to begin with. Instead of speaking, she nodded and allowed him to pull her into a whirlpool of gyrating hips and a bassline that rumbled through her whole body.

He wasn't particularly coordinated. He was a step or two off the beat of the music, but Marinette hardly had a chance to notice much beyond the fact that, holy shit, _she was grinding with Adrien Agreste._

"I was looking for you," he said, his voice low and husky in her ear.

"Well, here I am," she replied timidly and hardly audible. His hands grasped the fabric of her shorts, encouraging bolder moves from her. She couldn't say no, rolling her hips into his with the rhythm of the music.

"The sight of you makes my heart dance," Adrien said, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

"What?" Marinette asked, unsure if she heard him correctly over the music. _Was that a pun?_

"Hope I'm not _grinding_ your gears in saying so, but you look positively stunning tonight."

Okay, that was _not_ what he said the first time. Were they flirting now? Is that something that they did? Should she blush and giggle and thank him? Why, if Adrien Agreste was flirting with her, did she feel the familiar need to roll her eyes at the unfortunate wordplay rather than flirt back?

Before she could open her mouth again, Adrien stumbled straight into her, collapsing into her surprisingly strong arms.

"Adrien!" Marinette sputtered in fear, trying to get him on his feet. "Are you all right?"

His eyes grew wide and the whole room started spinning on a distorted axis where nothing felt stationary or real, yet everything felt _lighter._ Suddenly there was a fog-like curtain between Adrien and the real world he was standing in, yet he couldn't quite reach through to the other side. Not that he needed to; it felt good behind the curtain, where the pressure was off and everything was … funny. It felt like a funny dream where reality was shifted just a bit off its regular plane.

Hands clenching her shoulders, Adrien abruptly burst into a fit of laughter. "You sweep me off my feet, my lady in shining armor."

"W-what?!"

She stood in confusion as he buckled over, putting a good portion of his weight on her as he incessantly giggled.

"Adrien?" Marinette started, trying to push him away enough to see his eyes.

He only responded by laughing even harder, droplets of tears forming at the corners of his eyes as choppy syllables made their way out of his mouth. He was trying to speak.

"Oh my God!" Alya approached, clearly having dismissed her last dance partner. "Adrien is drunk. This is amazing!"

"What do you mean he's drunk?" Marinette stammered, pushing Adrien back up to his feet.

"Look at him!" Alya gestured wildly towards the boy. "He's a hot mess."

"Adrien, look at me," she took his face in her hands, forcing eye contact. Green eyes were glazed over with a thick fog. He was looking right at her, yet somehow she felt he couldn't even see her. Between that and his now drooping eyelids, she wasn't sure how much he could actually see at all. "How much did you drink tonight?"

"What can I say? I was thirsty." He mumbled. Alya nearly choked on her own cackling. "But really, I'm fine. Not as fine as you, but I am fine." He finished with a sloppy, droopy wink.

"Oh no," Marinette cringed. Any magic that lingered from dancing with Adrien, having his arms around her and moving her hips with his had completely dissipated. She had no idea how aware he was, or if he was in control at all.

So the entire interaction was no better than a lie, soon to be forgotten.

"Adrien, sweetie," Alya attempted contact. "Where is Nino?"

Adrien heard Alya. He knew she was talking. But what she was saying simply would not register in his brain. She sounded far away and the floor looked nice. So nice. He wondered if Mari would mind if he lay down…

Marinette took his arm and dragged him towards the exit and away from the crowd of dancing people.

"I'm moving so fast!" Adrien beamed as the room zipped past him in a neon, purple blur.

"There you are!" A fourth voice joined the group. Adrien knew that voice. Didn't he live with that voice?

"Nino!" Alya started. "Why did you let Adrien get so drunk?"

"Me?" He asked, offended. "I left him alone for fifteen minutes, tops! This is not my fault."

"As entertaining as this is, I didn't exactly have babysitting on the agenda tonight," Alya said. Her hands were on hips, raising an eyebrow at Nino.

"You won't have to," Marinette cut in. "I'll get a cab and take him home so you two can stay longer. No use in calling it a night for all of us."

Alya frowned, immediately protesting. "Girl, no! That's not fair to you, and cabs are so expensive!"

Examining the pile of what was once Adrien next to her, his arm around her shoulder and her immense effort was all that was keeping him standing (mostly) upright. His head bobbed as his neck just didn't seem to work anymore, and yet he was still giggling to himself over God knows what. Marinette sighed; there was no point staying at the club if she had to sit off to the side to keep Adrien out of trouble.

"Don't worry about it," Marinette smiled. "He'll just owe me."

Alya sighed, knowing her friend was probably right. "Well, okay," she reluctantly agreed, giving her roommate a crestfallen hug. Of course, Adrien joined in the hug as well. "Be safe."

"I should be saying that to you," Marinette winked, her eyes darting to Nino and back to Alya. Before Alya had a chance to react, Marinette was already guiding Adrien outside. She giggled to herself at the blush that was probably splashed on the girl's face, but she wouldn't be around to see it. She wasted no time in retrieving her cell phone and dialing for the cab. Truthfully, she didn't mind leaving early. She already had time to dance with Alya and with a handful of strangers, so all that was left to do was dance with Adrien. Well, dance with a _sober_ Adrien. But there were plenty more Friday nights to do so in the future. Besides, there's no way she could enjoy herself if she knew Adrien was potentially in danger.

* * *

"Hey…" Adrien said. "Did we get in a car?"

"Yes," Marinette answered. "We are in a car right now."

Small chuckles from him soon erupted into cackling laughter, his hands covering his mouth in a vain attempt to stifle the booming sound. The driver rolled his eyes, not that Adrien noticed.

"Adrien, nobody said anything funny," Marinette explained patiently.

"I thought of something," he explained, gesturing dramatically with his hands. "If a taxi driver sings while driving, is it called a _cab_ aret show?" He couldn't make it to the end of his sentence without laughing, but he pushed through until he got the words out.

The driver not so subtly groaned out loud, shooting the inebriated blond a glare through the rearview mirror.

"Adrien, no," Marinette joined in the chorus of frustrated groans, throwing her head back into the cushioned headrest of her seat. Craning her head toward him, she watched him keel over in his boisterous hysteria. Honestly, was _this_ Adrien Agreste - the same boy she couldn't even look in the eye at the beginning of the night? It was funny, really, that she was so needlessly intimidated by this complete goof. She could blame the single shot she had earlier, but she couldn't stop a smile from creeping across her face. If anyone asked, it was because he was cute. She certainly did not find "cabaret" amusing at all.

She paid and thanked the driver, crying inside at the ridiculous cost. Never again would she take a cab, she decided. Slipping Adrien's arm over her shoulder, she walked him to his place.

"Keys, please" she requested. He fumbled with all of his pockets before successfully retrieving his keychain.

"Mari, I don't think we need a cab anymore. I'm home."

She didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone just yet, so Marinette followed him in. His shared apartment with Nino didn't look much different than hers and Alya's, save for the boys' being slightly messier.

Adrien took a seat in the living room couch. Marinette shamelessly searched the kitchen cupboards for cups, unsurprised that the son of Mr. Agreste had a full, fancy matching set. She filled a cup with water and set it in front of Adrien, whose face was already flat against the armrest of the couch.

"Wake up, sunshine," she said softly with a smile, gently nudging his shoulder. "You're going to need a lot of water after all that."

He whined as he shifted back up. "I don't feel good."

"I know," she said, sitting next to him. "You still have to drink water or you're going to have a very bad day tomorrow."

He took the cup, tracing his finger through the condensation on the outside. "I'm sorry I ruined your night," he whispered solemnly, frowning into his slurred words.

"N-no! You didn't!" She reassured, guiding the glass to his mouth. "Just maybe don't drink so much next time."

"But I only had five tiny drinks! In the movies they drink full cups of this stuff." He sighed, raising a quivering fist. "I am weak."

"Adrien, if it's a full cup, it's probably beer or a mixed drink. It's not as strong as pure shots, which is why those are so small." Realization hit Marinette at that moment. Firstly, she learned that Adrien must have been particularly sheltered to not have basic alcohol knowledge prior to college. Secondly, this small insight to Adrien's life told Marinette that she hardly knew him at all.

"Oooooh," the light bulbs turned on in his dizzy head with Marinette's explanation. He took a few large sips of water, wiping his lips as he set the glass aside. "I always mess up everything. I'm sorry." Slouching backwards, he pouted with his arms folded over his chest. His tired eyes welled up with tears.

Marinette panicked, unsure of what to do. She figured it was the alcohol talking, as it had been most of the night for him. She reached out, gently taking his hand in hers. "You don't. You do your best, and that's all that matters!" While the sentiment behind his words was probably just the depressant effect of alcohol settling in, it would be cruel to leave him to cry in a pile of drunken embarrassment all night.

His bottom lip quivered as his hand tightened around hers. Without any more encouraging, he leaned into her body like a curled up cocoon.

Once Laughing Adrien was gone, Sad Kitten Adrien was left. Marinette could hardly bring herself to blush as she patted his back, coddling the mush of drunk kitten with encouraging words of "it's okay," and "you probably won't remember this tomorrow, so don't worry." She could talk to him like this without stuttering and embarrassing herself. Call her selfish, but it felt nice.

In the morning, everything would go back to normal. Adrien would be sober (with a killer hangover,) he would forget the majority of the night and go back to being his regular, more poised self. That meant Marinette would probably find herself stuttering and unable to carry a conversation with him once again. But she figured she would enjoy her own coherence for just a little while longer.

"You're nice," he mumbled into her shoulder. "I like nice."

"You're nice too," she replied, smiling in amusement at the purity of Drunk Adrien. "Drink your water."

So he did. "I don't know a lotta nice people," he added after gulping down more water. "My dad isn't very nice. His staff isn't nice. Chloe isn't nice either."

No, she was not, Marinette mentally added. She watched him babble, wondering if it was wrong that they were now entering territory that Adrien would most likely not speak of if he were in the right mind. Yet, he continued, and she let him because she didn't know what else to do.

"Nino is nice, though. And so are you! But I told you that," he mumbled, pointing an index finger to the sky as if presenting a valuable piece of information. "My mom was nice, too.

"You," he started again, his voice wavering as he lifted his head from her shoulder to find her eyes. "You smile… like her …. Too."

She had heard those words before. She had _said_ similar words before.

 _Oh._

Her smile was wiped clean off her face and replaced with a profuse blush. He stared at her, eyes glassy and thoughtful as could be before they closed for the final time that night, his body collapsing against her.

She took a breath, exhaling the nerves that got clogged in her lungs. Glad he fell asleep when he did, she feared that Drunk Adrien might just be able to connect dots that Sober Adrien couldn't.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** My classmate told me a story. She grew up in a very sheltered and religious home, so when she got to college, she drank an unhealthy amount of shots at a frat party thinking they were trying to "save money" on alcohol. Naturally I had to write it. Please remember to drink responsibly, have trustworthy friends present and take it EASY the first time! Take one drink at a time and drink lots of water between each one.

Also I welcome corrections in cultural errors I may make. I do my best to research customs in France, but there are plenty of things I could have missed. However, information on super specific things is sometimes difficult so I may make mistakes. But of course, I'd love to learn! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading! Please be nice and leave reviews if you liked it. Best wishes - until the next update!


	3. Go

**Author's Note:** Reminder that these are all oneshots/drabbles that take place in the same universe. Previously on TPMLoPS: The kids go clubbing and Adrien's lack of alcohol education gets him hammered. Now it **Ladynoir DRABBLE** time (✿ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )

* * *

Brisk air prickled her exposed skin as she leaped from rooftop to rooftop. With her yoyo in hand and cell phone in the other, she vaulted across Paris, her silhouette all that was visible from below among all the twinkling city lights. The air tasted cold and fresh against her tongue as she panted for oxygen in her moment of urgency.

She sprinted in a running jump before making a final leap to her destination, hurling her yoyo to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

The workload of college had quickly escalated, and the amount of free time she had dwindled with each assignment. Between her overwhelming studies and Akuma duties, the only time she had to do this was, well, right now.

And she swore, she was going to catch this Dragonair one way or another.

If she had to abuse the ancient superhero magic she had been gifted to do so, then so be it.

Retracting her yoyo, she took a few paces forward atop the tower, waiting for the app to register her slowed speed. Her eyes were glued to her phone screen. Any second, that Dragonair would appear. She needed it. So she kept watching the screen, refusing to look up, pacing back and forth until she walked face-first into a pole that was definitely not there before.

Except it wasn't a pole. It was a body. A familiar, leather-clad body.

"My lady?" Chat asked, eyes wide in surprise. The light from his own phone illuminated his face. "We didn't plan a patrol today, did we?"

Taking a moment to catch her breath, she was relieved it was just Chat. "No, I'm not patrolling. I was just taking a breather."

Chat's eyes trailed to her phone, recognizing the familiar screen. "You know as well as I do that you're after the Dragonair that's in this area." He chuckled, propping a hand on his hip, showing his own screen that also displayed Pokémon Go.

"Fine, you got me," Ladybug sighed. At least Chat had no room to judge her for using her superpowers to catch Pokémon since he was doing the same thing. "Any luck finding it?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. I just got here moments before you. Probably a connection issue."

As if on cue, the grass on both their screens began to rustle as the digitalized cry sounded from their speakers.

"There it is!" Ladybug cheered, peering into the viewfinder of her camera phone, seeing the dragon type materialize next to Chat Noir. "Wait, say cheese Chat!" She giggled, taking a screenshot of her partner standing next to the Dragonair they both sought. He didn't hesitate before flashing his signature grin and peace sign next to Dragonair.

Turning their attention to the app, they hurled Pokéball after Pokéball until they each had their very own Dragonair to register in their Pokédexes.

"Pound it!" Chat held out a fist, laughing when Ladybug rolled her eyes before agreeing to join in their celebratory fist bump. He would do whatever it took to draw out even a little amusement from his lady.

"You know, there are a lot of Poké Stops in the area," Ladybug began. "If you're not in a rush to go home -"

"Well, I am a Dratini bit Drowzee, but I would be honored to join Mew, Bugaboo," he said, hardly getting through his own sentence without laughing. With a wide, smug smile, he had the nerve to wink at her after that. If he had even the chance of seeing her smile, he would do anything. If that meant sneaking out after midnight and cracking jokes left and right, then he'd be damned if he didn't try.

She couldn't hide her consequent groan if she wanted to (and she did not,) almost leaving him on the Eiffel Tower right then and there as she whipped out her yoyo once again.

"Wait, don't leave! I'll stop," He reached out, still trying to settle down his cackling to a dull roar. "What team are you? Maybe we can work together to claim this gym for Instinct."

"Instinct?" Dark eyebrows knitted together. "Why am I not surprised."

That killed his laughter on the spot. "What's that supposed to mean?" He feigned offense. Being on a team with her always felt right; he couldn't imagine ever not being on her side, even if it was just a game.

"Nothing, Kitty," she winked. "I'm with Mystic, so if you try to take this gym from us, it will be my responsibility to kick your butt."

He pouted, resting one hand on his hip. "Fine, no gym battles." Because she could absolutely kick his butt, and he would be powerless to defend himself. This was a huge reason Chat was thankful Ladybug was on his team in real life.

"Come on," she beckoned, turning her back to him as she aimed her yoyo. "There's a stop at our sculptures."

"Race you there! Don't be a Slowpoke," he stuck his tongue out as he vaulted past her, not giving her a chance to diss his self-declared masterpieces of comedic genius.

He passed by her fast, and the sky was a slate black save for the flickering lights of the tower. He knew he was probably imagining it, but he thought he saw a slight upward curve of her lips as he left.

Then again, why wouldn't she be amused? His jokes were hilarious.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** This is super short, probably drabble status. But with all the Pokémon Go craze, I couldn't let this opportunity pass! Besides, I've been writing Pokémon for 6 years, it just feels right to get back to my roots! No one can convince me that Adrien isn't Instinct. Best wishes - until the next update!


End file.
